Awakening to see shimmering bone above her gaze rather than from within and finding herself covered in a warm blanket over human legs was a bizarre moment for Arna, but most peculiar were the arms wrapped around her slim waist. Neri’s head still slumbered against her shoulder, hands encircling Arna’s body beneath the blanket, the sunlight streaming through the empty window casting a halo on her brunette hair.

Noises of other people moving around in the building unsettled the shapeshifter, and she reluctantly disturbed the woman from her sleep with a gentle shake.

A grumble as she blinked and squinted, releasing Arna to stretch out her body. “Good morning,” she greeted, pulling herself away and off the mattress, leaving a cold void behind. “Did you sleep well?”

Arna watched as the warrior shrugged off all signs of tiredness easily, wrestling on her boots and slinging her sword onto her belt once more, checking it over like an old friend. Fingers combed out the knots and tangles of her hair, before she picked up her armour.

“I did,” she answered honestly. She hadn’t slept so fitfully in decades. She joined Neri, standing up tall with the cloak already hiding her features and rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders. “Are you going to the guild hall now?”

“Not yet. First, we’re going to shower,” she replied with a faint smile. She snatched up two ragged towels and pushed one into Arna’s hands. “Everyone else will already have had one at this time. Come on.”

Neri led her out of her room and walked further down the corridor until they came upon a swinging panel door, the words ‘Shower Room’ etched into the wood in a disjointed scrawl. Inside, it was indeed empty of people but the floor was wet and slippery underfoot. The sleek stone ground slopped downwards until it dipped into a gutter at the back wall, likely draining out water to somewhere outside. A rusted metal bench was positioned at the centre and Neri dropped her towel and armour on it.

“Pull the rope and you’ll get about a bucket or two worth,” she said, pointing out the shower heads jutting out of the two flanking walls at metre intervals, thin ropes dangling beside them attached to levers.

Arna hesitated for a moment, laying her own towel on the bench as she eyed the wooden door still swinging slightly from their entrance, trying to listen for who or what was closest.

“No one will come in this late in the morning and if they do, they won’t be quiet.” Neri smiled reassuringly, taking her boots and trousers off without meeting Arna’s gaze. “It’ll be fine.”

Arna slowly began to take her own clothes off, a strange uncomfortable feeling in her chest as she kept glancing at the door, then back at herself, then at the woman beside her.

Neri had awkwardly turned away, lifting her shirt over her head in one fluid motion and fully revealing the sculpted muscles of her stomach and arms, faint scars and yellowing bruises patterned across her white skin. The warrior strode over to a shower in the corner, harshly yanking down the rope and closing her eyes as water gushed down like violent rain.

Arna tore her gaze away, anxiously covering herself with her hands as she approached a shower in the opposite corner. She had been forced unclothed by countless scientists and cultists as they opened her up and tested on her, but to stand in this oddly normal situation after years of walking on four legs was like being thrown up on a stage in front of millions, despite it only being Neri. But Neri seemed just as uncomfortable, although this shower room was obviously designed to have no privacy in mind with each shower open to another with no dividing walls or grooves in the sloped floor.

She pulled on the rope and freezing cold water cascaded down, gasping as it struck her like ice against bare skin. She relished in the cleansing feeling of it rushing through her hair, drumming against the skull, washing away an age of filth and ashen blood, piercing cold lashing on ribs and spine like ringing punches. She shook the moisture from her hands, stepping away as the shower stuttered to a halt, the dirty water pooling at her feet and then draining away with the slope.

She dragged fingers through her wet black hair, returning to the bench and wrapping herself up in the tattered towel. She rubbed the rough material against her shivering skin, drying herself off, and then struggled into the borrowed clothing once more, finishing it off with the safety of the cloak, the hood hanging low over her face.

“Ready?” the warrior asked. She stood on the other side of the bench, fastening her armour in place. Water dripped from the tips of her hair and a blush dusted her cheeks, her eyes only now finally meeting Arna’s.

Arna nodded, passing the damp towel back to Neri and following her out, leaving the towels behind in her room.

“The city is a different place in the day,” Neri said as they descended the rickety stairs. “It will be busy, and so will the guild hall. You don’t have to speak to anyone if you don’t wish to, but it’s not necessary to hide your face. The skull looks like a trophy from a kill. Don’t worry about it.”

Arna swallowed the lump in her throat, the guild hall now in view. The door was open wide and she could hear the bustle of voices within. Neri waited for the shapeshifter to nod before they stepped inside.

The hall of the Warrior’s Guild was an immensely vast room, the multitude of varying bricks continuing inside across the mosaic of smooth floors and high ceilings, a sunset burst into a thousand shards. More metal benches dotted the centre of the room, with the soft cushioning of furs thrown atop. Men, women and children sat waiting and talking – some donned armour while others fiddled with their thin clothing. Standing like sentries around the hall’s perimeter, a few warriors in complete sets of armour watched, the metal and leather gleaming with care and oil, their scanning gazes just as keen as the weapons strapped to their waists or backs. A long, battered oak table filled the left side of the hall, men sat behind it holding books and papers. Past them, a large dais rose out of the ground like a platform of pocketed stone. Seats ripped out of old cars created a semi-circle for men to sit while observing over the entire hall. For now, only half were occupied and they spoke quietly, gruff voices talking of training and armaments. To the right of the dais, a board tall as a tree and thrice as wide presented scraps of paper.

Arna followed closely as Neri approached the long table, rapping her knuckles on the stained wood to attain the attention of one of the men behind it. He only gave her a mere glance as recognition.

“Neri of the Warrior’s Guild,” she announced. “Returning from my quest.”

The man sighed, the book in his hand landing with a heavy thud on the oak top as he reached out for a different leather-bound tome. He flicked through it, the charcoal ink letterings mostly faded or smudged yet he read it all the same. He hummed a off-note. “Reason?”

Neri flinched. “Raiders ransacked the village. No…no survivors.”

The man just nodded and scratched another dark illegible line onto the page. “Noted.” He licked his blackened fingers, closed the tome, and returned to his previous reading.

The warrior stepped away from the table, swiftly retreating across the hall.

“That was it?” asked Arna, her strides long to keep pace.

“I need to get another assignment, but yes. That’s it.” Neri’s voice sounded dull and terse, her jaw stiff and gaze straight, but Arna could hear the slight tremble in her words and the rapid, nervous beating of her heart.

They halted in front of the board, staring up at the numerous postings in all forms of writing or drawings, all as if written in different languages and tones ranging from a child’s picture book to an old man’s befuddled story.

Arna wanted to take her hand as she watched the woman scan the board for a new assignment, an almost desperate and fearful expression beneath the stern exterior. Arna knew she couldn’t openly comfort or offer support, not here. Neri wouldn’t want her to, not in the place where she had to appear the strongest and most unyielding, immutable to weakness and defeat.

Neri ripped off a notice and spun on her heel, steadily nearing the dais. The men paused their hushed discussion and pierced her approach with chilling stares. The woman stopped when her right foot jarred against the edge of the stone dais and dropped to one knee with a hand on her sword hilt, bowing her head as if before mighty kings she was compelled to worship.

With the scrutinising gazes of vultures judging their fragile young, the men watched her for too long a moment before finally returning her gesture with a low bow of their own heads. They resumed their quiet conversation and Neri rose, walking backwards for half a dozen steps with her chin still ducked down, and then turning, storming across the hall to slam the paper scrap on the oak table. This time another tired-looking man peered up at her, taking the scrap and noting her name once more.

Neri retrieved the paper and marched towards the door, giving a single glance over her shoulder to ensure Arna still followed. However, before they could reach the exit, one of the armoured warriors boomed a voice so deep and loud it toiled and echoed inside his steel helm.

“Neri!” the man yelled, pulling off his helm to reveal a tanned face uneven with scars and framed with pure white stubble. “Neri, is that you?!”

The woman froze, her hand tensing on her sword yet her stance offered no guard. Instead, a grin spread across her lips, the stiffness of her jaw loosening in a laugh. “Jaako!”

The man closed the distance in huge, bounding steps and swept the woman up in a bone-crushing hug, his armour straining as his wide, barrel-chested body rolled and bulged as if alive with snakes swallowing him whole. “Oh, Neri! How have you been? What’s it been – a year? Two?”

Neri clapped a hand atop the man’s metal-clad shoulder, her feet dangling helplessly above the ground yet her grin remained joyous and full. “Too long!”

“And you’re back!” The man’s hearty, booming voice fell. “Ah, you’re back.”

Neri nodded solemnly as the warrior released her, easily landing on her feet, a hand still touching the man’s forearm, adamant to maintain contact as if the man still held her up and she was scared to let go lest she crumble. “I’m back.”

“Next time,” Jaako told her. “Next time.”

She raised the paper scrap between two fingers. “Next time is escorting a caravan towards Polenya.”

He considered that, nodding. “An easy job for you,” he said with a wry grin. “You’d do it asleep. Just watch out for the crazies, you’ll be fine.” His eyes lifted away from Neri’s, stopping with a frown on Arna. “This is…?”

Neri jolted, turning with an even wider grin as she motioned with an open palm towards her. “This is Arna. She’s a hunter and my companion. Arna, this is Jaako – my mentor.”

The frown deepened, scarred brows furrowed low over a disapproving gaze. “Companion?” he repeated, the loud cheer of his voice replaced with a silent warning.

The woman’s cheeks reddened. “N-not like that,” she stuttered. “I mean, she’s going to be travelling with me now.”

Jaako jerked his head to the side and spat at his feet. “I see. Well, you make sure you have her back.”

It took a second for Arna to realize the man was addressing her and she had no idea how to respond. She glanced at Neri. The woman was still smiling, still happy, still unguarded. “Yes, of course, sir,” she finally said.

Jaako blinked. “Sir?” he laughed, his frown evaporating along with the sweat beading on his forehead. “Sir! I like this one, Neri. But can she hold her own? Is she worthy of fighting beside a member of the Warrior’s Guild?”

Neri hesitated, only now looking wary as she faced Arna. “Trust me,” she mouthed. She stepped away from Jaako, letting the man near Arna.

Arna chose to trust, but that didn’t stop the terror gurgling up in her chest and almost strangling her. She focused on Jaako, the man looming over her as thick and muscular as an old bear, a two-handed hammer almost twice his height pointing out over his shoulder. He appraised her, his calloused fingers brushing roughly over his white-dusted chin, and she stared back. He studied her pale skin, her thin and gracile features, the black curls of her hair, and she almost felt like he saw the shimmering bone of the saber skull and her glowing, amber eyes despite the hood. He met her glower, her fear and threat bubbling in her throat, and he shoved his helm back over his head.

“You’ve seen her fight?” he asked, his voice now reverberating inside metal.

Neri leaned over to touch Arna’s shoulder, offering a small reassuring smile. “I have.”

“I’ll let the guild masters know then. You know a warrior can’t have a companion without it being noted in their fancy books.”

“Thank you, Jaako,” Neri said, her words soft. “Truly.”

“Anything for my favourite recruit,” he replied, smacking a large hand against her back, making her stumble forwards yet she still stood upright, although Arna knew most would have fallen flat.

“Come on, Arna.”

They left the old bear of a warrior behind, stepping out into the bright light of day and moving away from the guild hall. Once they had rounded the corner of the street, Neri reached out and grasped Arna’s hand, their fingers instinctively intertwining as if they’d done it a thousand times before. She pulled the shapeshifter to the side, narrowly dodging a man dragging his cart down the street, and into a quiet spot between two decaying buildings.

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Neri. “I forgot that warriors cannot have others on an assignment without the Guild knowing. I had to prove to Jaako that you-”

“Neri,” she interrupted, pressing a finger to the warrior’s lips to silence her. “It’s fine.” She was used to tests, and the man tested her will and sought to know her strength just by looking, and whatever he had seen proved her ‘worth’.

“Are you sure…?” Neri’s lips moved against her finger and she let her hand drop back to her side.

“I am.” She gestured towards the scrap of paper tucked in the warrior’s belt. “The new assignment?”

“Escorting a caravan back to their home village near Polenya. We leave at dusk.”

“That’s soon,” she said as Neri led her back out onto the street.

“I didn’t think you would want to hang around in Atsylei for any longer than necessary.”

Arna hummed a noise of thanks. It was true; Atsylei was a barbed prison closing in around her, choking her with deceitful normalcy. The shapeshifter met Neri’s gaze as they walked, the green eyes flawless and the soft smile a glowing light that allowed the shadow she was to share it. Today was a dawn Arna had never once believed to exist, and yet the warmth of Neri’s hand soothed her, giving her the courage and desire to look out at the darkening horizon with hope.